


Secret Admirer

by JamesSunderlandsPillow



Category: The Loud House
Genre: Some thing I wrote for a dude for Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 22:03:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17775035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesSunderlandsPillow/pseuds/JamesSunderlandsPillow
Summary: Upon learning that Lucy is depressed about Valentine’s Day, Lincoln and Lynn both make plans to find the perfect gifts for her. (I do not own The Loud House.)





	Secret Admirer

**Author's Note:**

> For LoudAutomata16.

The Loud House, daylight.

It’s a normal day around 1216 Franklin Avenue. Luna plays some guitar in her bedroom while Luan reads one of her obscure novels. The twins do some coloring and talking about whether or not Lana will get a Valentine’s card from Skippy. Lisa’s looking at cats who meow loudly on the internet instead of working on her latest project…

And Lincoln is in his bedroom trying to come up with story ideas for when he finally decides to start working on his new comic series about an eleven year old boy with… ten sisters. But uhm, he has superpowers. And there will be like, an anime theme to it! Yeah!

“So it’s not _totally_ ripping off my personal life…” he thinks aloud.

Maybe he could be thinking of girls to give Valentines to tomorrow at school, but he was content working on his project. It wasn’t at all an escape, distraction, or coping mechanism. Nope. Totally not. He just has fun working on stuff like this, all by himself, alone.

The creativity block starts to get to him though, so he wanders his eyes around the room to look for inspiration somewhere along these empty walls, watching the hours tick by. His vision takes to the window, where outside his house, he can see Lynn Loud Jr practicing for her upcoming soccer match. She bounces the ball up and down on her knee for a moment before confidently transitioning into a _beautiful_ swing kick that sends the black and white sphere crashing into the net. For a guy with the athleticism of Dopinder the taxi driver, even Lincoln knows how to appreciate something so amazing.

“Dang, Lynn,” he simply says with a little smile and nod of approval.

As his immediately older sister takes pause to wipe sweat from her brow, she allows her eyes to wander too. And serendipitously, they meet the very same glass that her brother is able to see her through. She sees the way he adorably gawks at her like a total fanboy, and it makes her laugh a little. He’s a dork, but he’s her favorite dork.

So she shoots him a little thumbs up and smile, which could be interpreted in a lot of ways. Maybe it means _Thanks!_ or _Did you see that?!_

Lincoln though, he decides it’s a little of both, and maybe even just a little _You’re the best, bro._

So he smiles too, throwing up a celebratory fist, which makes Lynn chuckle into her hand. That gives him a warm feeling of pride seeing her convey this brand of sincerity that she doesn’t let very many people see, and it almost disappoints him when she breaks the gaze to collect her ball and go running into the house.

“That’s my Lynn,” he thinks aloud with appreciation before deciding to do a little more window watching. Maybe he could start his next story with a tale about The Strong Suit, or maybe even a team-up with Ace Savvy… But he is young, life is long, and there’s still some time to kill today. Maybe it won’t hurt to just enjoy the view outside his window for a little longer before getting back to business.

Just like before though, a pretty little lady he just so happens to live with catches his eye. Only this time, it’s not bright, vibrant pigments of red that make her stand out so easily. No, it’s dark shades of black. And unlike Lynn, her roommate Lucy carries herself with her usual dejection. No pep in her step, no rhythm obvious in her gait. Just the signature stoicism that she often carries with her.

And it’s a little disappointing for Lincoln, sure. It would be a pleasant surprise to see her coming home with a warm smile on her face for once, but hey… this is Lucy. That was just her kind of song.

However, this isn’t her usual brand of goth glumness that derives from dissatisfaction, listlessness, or ennui. Today, she walks a little faster as she approaches her home. With the hurry she’s in, and the way she keeps brushing her face with her hands, Lincoln almost misses it. He _almost_ doesn’t see the truth.

But his keen eye sees just how red and puffy her face is under those black bangs. She’s crying…

“Oh no…” he utters as he watches her rush into the house. And with no hesitation whatsoever, he leaps from his desk to the floor with the finesse of his favorite superhero to go check what’s the matter.

Halfway into the hallway, he realizes Lucy has already made it into her bedroom with the way he hears and catches glimpse of the door to her room forcefully being slammed shut.

“Shoot,” he quietly cusses before idling in his spot for a little while to devise a new plan of action. He could just go knock on the door… _“Lucy, please, I know you’re in there…”_ but he’s convinced that she’d likely just ignore him, or just tell him to go away. He couldn’t be much help if that was the case.

His thoughtfulness once again takes his eyes to curious places, like the nearest ventilation shaft. Lucy sure loved hanging around in the ducts. He wonders if maybe she’d end up in them again before tonight was over. Maybe she was even on her way there now.

And that’s when the lightbulb goes off over his snowy white head.

“Maybe… Maybe I could just… make my way inside? Go and check on her, see just why she’s crying?…”

He hated when his sisters meddled, but he had to admit, sometimes they were actually pretty helpful when they did. Like the time Luna told her friends about Lucy’s short story involving a bunny, and they all loved it. Maybe this would be similar. He could just sneak his way into the vents like the resident goth is known to do, and just sort of see what’s wrong before deciding how to go about it. Sure. This would work out great. What could possibly go wrong?

So, with the decision made, he does a little double take to make sure his sisters are all still occupied. From the way things seem, he has a perfect window of opportunity. It’s now or never…

...

Meanwhile, Lynn finishes chugging down a protein shake in the kitchen before wiping the residuey mustache from her lip. “Ahh, good stuff,” she comments before deciding it’s time for a little R&R. After all, if she wanted to be the best, she’d need some time here and there to settle down a little. And, truth be told… she kind of wanted to just take it easy tonight. She planned to spend her Valentine’s Day tomorrow the same way she spent every other Valentine’s Day. By hoping and praying that no one would bother her with their stupid cards, and distracting herself from all of so-called “pretty girls” getting theirs by playing a butt ton of hockey. Or bowling. Or softball. Or _anything._

So with that in mind, she makes a conscious effort to take her sweet time slowly making her way into the living room and up the steps of her quaint, suburban home. When she gets to the top, she finds that no one is around. Which, hey, that’s all well and good. No reason to be alarmed. It’s a little weird that Lincoln’s bedroom door is wide open and he’s not in there after literally (as Lori loved to say) just creepin’ on her from his window, but he’s Lincoln. He does weird stuff all the time.

The silence is only broken when Leni makes her way out of her bedroom, closing the door behind her before proceeding with her cute little ducky walk in Lynn’s direction. Maybe they didn’t see each other a lot, but she had to admit, she always loved getting a little Leni to herself.

“Hi Lynn!” the blonde chirps with a little wave.

“Hey you. Lookin’ totes adorbs,” Lynn playfully says with a little finger gun.

“Oh, stop,” Leni simply says with a dismissive little wave before walking her way past her and down the stairs.

Lynn smiles at their brief but happy encounter. It didn’t need more to it. She knows Leni loves her, and she knows that _she_ knows the feeling is mutual. That’s good enough for her.

“Who needs a stupid boy sending you cards when you have an awesome family like this one?” she thinks aloud with a weak little laugh.

With that, she makes her way to her bedroom door to go inside and have a little lie down. Maybe watch some videos on her phone or something until dinner.

_“You know… Not like all the ‘pretty girls’ with their stupid boyfriends…”_

She reaches out for the doorknob, but finds that it won’t twist. It’s locked.

“What the-?!” she blurts out before trying to give the thing a harder twist and a little shove. No use.

She stands in a stupor for a second before wondering if maybe her younger sister had made it home and locked herself inside.

“Lucy? Lucy are you home?” she asks, and she simply waits for a response.

“Go away…” she hears Lucy say with shaky voice.

Ahh dangit. “Lucy? Come on dude! It’s my room, too!” she begs.

“Just leave me alone!” Lucy cries with obvious despondence in her tone.

Okay, so, something is wrong. Lucy doesn’t usually lock the door and not open it for her roommate like this. She knows full well Lynn can wipe the floor with her. So whatever it is, it must be pretty important, the thirteen year old deciphers.

“Uhm, dude. If something’s wrong, we can talk about it,” she almost nervously lets out. Heaven forbid one of her other siblings hear her and assume she like, has mushy feelings and stuff…

But Lucy is worth it. If something is bothering her, she wants to help. They were practically best friends. Heck, she was there for her when she told everybody she’d work up the nerve to do something about her feelings for Francisco, then never did.

She anxiously awaits an answer from the eight year old…

“Just please go, Lynn. Please…” she pleas with the same somber, shaky voice.

Well, that didn’t work so well.

She could just barge the door down, or use her back up key (which was locked in the room, dang it), to get in, but she decides to have a little more humility. After all, even if she won’t admit it… Lynn has a soft spot for Lucy. They share a room. She’s the ying to her yang, the black to balance her light. Or maybe that was the other way around…

Still, she decides to be patient with herself. She makes sure to be as loud as possible as she trudges away from the door, calling out “Fine, have it your way.”

Then she waits a moment, and relies on her “Lynnja” skills to stay silent as she sneaks as close as she can to the door, this time to rest her ear against it.

Ever so quietly, ever so attentively, she waits and listens…

The sound of Lucy sniffling and choking up is almost enough to break her heart, but she keeps calm. If she knows Lucy the way she thinks she does, it won’t be long before she starts venting.

And no, not in the ducts.

The eight year old goth takes the bust of the vampire she affectionately calls Edwin and holds him over her knees to meet his eyes.

“Why doesn’t anyone love me? I- I know I’m not like other girls, but I’m not a bad person, am I?” she cries.

Hearing those words makes Lynn’s heart sink in her chest. It’s horrible to think that someone as sweet and loving (despite what the Hot Topic wardrobes would tell others) as Lucy could feel this way…

“I know you love me, Edwin. But I’m sorry to admit that… sometimes, I just wish someone rea- someone _else_ would notice me. Someone new, someone I wouldn’t expect it from. Someone to just make me feel special without asking for it… It really sucks to feel alone, Edwin. It just sucks…”

She stops speaking, choosing instead to just cry the rest of her depression away. Lynn stays at the doorside for a little while longer to be sure she’s finished saying what she needs to say to the bust, and when she’s sure that she has, she cautiously leaves her spot by the door to get a safe enough distance away to release some of her pent up frustration.

“Oh Lucy…” she heavily sighs.

...

Unbeknownst to either of them, Lynn isn’t the only one to witness Lucy’s breakdown. Because Lincoln had been in the ventilation ducts the entire time, listening on to the very same words Lucy had to offer her dear Edwin. He idles in his spot where he can watch her for a moment longer, but the sight of her burying her face in her arms and sobbing becomes too painful for him to bear anymore.

He sighs, and crawls his way over to the end of the shaft where he came in. He watches and waits as Lynn reluctantly makes her way downstairs, turning back only once to wistfully look to the bedroom door a final time before accepting defeat.

Once she’s disappeared from sight, the boy makes his way out of the duct and back out onto the floor, where he looks around to make sure no one will see him. Fortunately, no one comes, and he takes the opportunity to let out another sad sigh.

“Dang, I thought _I_ felt bad about not having a Valentine. I didn’t realize Lucy felt so crummy though…”

Where there’s mostly pity, there’s a blossoming rage inside of him as he returns to his bedroom to process these thoughts. How could anyone get away with letting his sweet little sister feel so neglected? How could _he?_

“You know what? I’m not gonna stand for it. I’m not going to let Lucy come home from school tomorrow feeling like this again. I refuse to!”

He puts all of his supplies for his Ace Savvy comic in his drawer to make room for his whiteboard. On it, he writes: _Operation Valentine’s Day._

He thinks it over, and decides, “Meh, that’s too bland.”

So he erases it, and takes a moment to consider the situation. Not just so he can have a cooler name for his newest project, but so he can devise the perfect plan to make sure his little sister has the perfect Valentine’s Day. He won’t let her feel so sad anymore, but in order to do that, she has to know she’s loved, she has to know she’s _noticed_ by someone she’d least expect.

And that’s when another light bulb burns bright over his little white head.

“I’ve got it!” he proclaims. Then, he erases the lame name of his newest Operation on the whiteboard  before replacing it with something better, something more apropos…

_Operation Secret Admirer._

\-----------------------

The next hour goes by much like the last. As in, it’s mostly Lincoln sitting on his bed looking at his notebook, writing down ideas for how to go about his _newest_ newest project.

“I should really try to finish stuff when I start it, but this one is important. Lucy means the world to me, and I need to show her that. But what’s the best way to do it?” he ponders as he taps the end of his pencil against his lip.

Just then, he hears his tablet blaring its ringtone, and picks it up to find a pleasant surprise…

“Oh, okay,” he says with a little smile before pecking the answer dial. “Hey Girl Jordan,” he greets the girl with a signature French braid, who meets him with a little chagrin.

“You can just call me Jordan you know?” she reminds him.

Lincoln playfully smirks. “Yeah, I could. But It just suits you! You can even call me Boy Lincoln if you want!”

She laughs a little at his dumb riposte. “You’re an idiot. But hey, I got something for ya,” she tells him.

 _“If it’s a Valentine from a pretty girl, I might actually die,”_ he thinks to himself, trying and failing to not get his hopes up as he drops the juvenile humor to pay close attention to whatever she has for him.

“Uhm, okay. What’s up?”

She doesn’t pull out any card or box of chocolates though. “Me and the guys are heading over to Rusty’s here in a bit. He says he wants us to watch him play this stupid game about monsters or zombies or something, but we’re just gonna roast him the whole time. You in?”

“Oh…” Lincoln simply responds, trying and failing to not be a little disappointed that she isn’t asking him to do something where it would be just the two of them. He doesn’t let it completely ruin his mood though. In fact, he uses this brief feeling of rejection as motivation to get right back to his initial train of thought: helping Lucy to keep from feeling the same way.

“Well, I would Jordan. It sounds fun. But I’m kind of busy working on uh… something important.”

The way he hangs his head and trails off weakly makes it obvious that something is wrong, and Jordan, being the astute girl she is, is quick to pick up on that.

“Hey, Lincoln… Is everything okay?” she asks.

Normally, the boy would fib and dismiss her. These were his problems. Vents had their place, but not when they were small and burdensome. That was just a good way to get blown away like a paper bag by everyone you love.

But in this case, Lincoln can’t help but make the following conclusion. Jordan is a girl. Lucy is a girl. If anyone could help him figure out how to put his plan into action, it would be her.

And, most importantly, he could trust her not to meddle. Unlike nine other girls he lives with. (Yes, that includes Lily.)

So, with that in mind, he lets out a sigh before revealing the truth.

“Okay, Jordan, I have something important to ask you. But it has to stay between the two of us, okay? I can’t have certain people finding out.”

She raises her brow with surprise. “Oh. Dang. Sounds serious,” she begins before ebbing a little bit to convey some composure. “But yeah. Dude, seriously, I won’t blab. I’d love to help with whatever it is.”

Lincoln takes a deep breath before beginning, and does a quick little scan of the perimeter to make sure no sisters are lurking around. He’s especially sure to check the vent, and fortunately, Lucy doesn’t appear to be hiding in there.

Positive that his secret will be safe with only Jordan, he proceeds to tell her just ‘what’s up.’

“Okay, so, my little sister came home crying a little bit ago. She feels really sad about not having a Valentine this year,” he starts.

“Aww… Poor kid,” Jordan says with a frown.

“Yeah, she’s the last person who deserves to feel that way,” Lincoln frowns. But he doesn’t want to bum himself out again, and keeps going on. “Anyway, I think I might have an idea on how to make her feel a little better. Maybe you could give me your opinion?”

Jordan playfully straightens her posture like a superhero. “Yes, citizen. I, Girl Jordan, will lend you my expert opinion; seeing as I represent the entire female population!” she jokes.

Lincoln tries not to laugh. “This is serious!”

“Alright, alright,” Jordan tells him, fixing herself. “So what’s your idea?”

Being the neurotic boy he is, Lincoln repeats the very same process as before as he checks to make sure there are no ears listening in on his conversation. Jordan just rolls her eyes as she waits for him to sit back down to focus on her again.

“Well, here’s my idea, and you tell me if you think it stinks,” he starts again.

“I’m sure it does, but tell me anyway,” Jordan jokes.

Lincoln disregards her silliness. “So, I’m thinking I’m going to make her a special Valentine’s card, and make it out to be like it’s from a secret admirer.”

“Aww!” Jordan interrupts again, unable to contain the WAFFs inside her.

Lincoln blushes a little, but perseveres _like a man!_

“The problem is, I’m worried I won’t be able to do a good job. I don’t know how to make it special enough,” he admits.

Jordan considers his dilemma for a moment before composing a suggestion. “Okay, so you’re worried about making it special. Uhm, which sister are you talking about again?”

“Lucy,” Lincoln answers.

“That doesn’t help,” Jordan teases.

Lincoln frowns again. “The goth one.”

“Oh, okay,” Jordan nods, and she considers the possibilities once again before snapping her fingers and putting on an inspired smile. “Alright, I think I have an idea!”

“I’m all ears,” Lincoln replies.

“And feet. You got some big feet, kid,” Jordan teases.

“Jordan!” Lincoln petulantly moans.

She laughs at her own joke before getting serious. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just having some fun… Okay, so here’s my idea,” she begins. “I think I remember hearing you say she read some poems at the Royal Woods Theater, right?”

“Yeah,” Lincoln follows.

“Okay, so how about this? _You_ write her a poem, and really put a lot of thought into it. Like, personalize it just for her,” Jordan recommends. “Take everything you heard her say, and use it to come up with lines for it. Make it seem like someone really notices her, you know?”

Lincoln digests the information he’s been told, and comes to the realization that… “It’s genius! Jordan... Dude!”

She timidly beams a little grin as she preens a strand of hair behind her ear. “You really think so?”

“Alright, so I’ll write her a poem, and I’ll try to make it about all the things I think about when I think of her! Yeah! Awesome!” he giddily cries, chirps, not even afraid of how spazzy it might sound.

“I know my stuff,” she says with a cool shrug.

And while there was a spurt of optimism for the eleven year old boy, it’s soon replaced by skepticism once again.

“Okay, so, I think I’ll do that, and just like, leave it in her room to find it? Or maybe I can even have you give it to her! Yeah! You can just be like, ‘Someone told me to give this to you?’”

“You’re overthinking this, idiot,” Jordan bluntly tells him. “First of all, if you leave it in her room, she’s going to ask questions about how it got there. If you have me give it to her, that’s a dead giveaway it’s from you.”

Lincoln deflates a little, but not in a bad way. “Well, when you put it that way…”

“Listen, the fact that you’re doing this at all just goes to show how great a guy you are,” she assures him.

“I mean, not really,” he tries to interject, but she won’t have it.

“No, seriously,” she continues. “This is why everyone likes you so much. You’re always going above and beyond. Any girl would be lucky to have you as their Valentine,” she says to him with a warm smile.

Hearing those words snuffs any desire he had to argue with her. Maybe he didn’t agree with her, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the sentiment. Especially if she really meant that last part. He might even ask her about it again some time...

But for now, he decides he has things he needs to take care of, and that he’s taken enough of her time. Rather than being straightforward about it though, maybe he’ll give her a taste of her own medicine...

“Hey, since when do you just call me to hang out?” he teasingly asks the pretty little girl with the bow in her hair.

She smiles an almost nervous, warm smile as she considers how to respond. “Things change,” she answers, her cheeks pinkening a little.

That makes him smile too, and for a little while, they just kind of look at one another via their screens before awkwardly turning away to rub the backs of their necks.

“So uh, I suppose I better let you get to work,” she finally says to break the silence, not even kidding around.

Lincoln nods with a little sigh. “Oh… Yeah. Yeah, I really should,” he concedes. But seeing the pair of amber eyes looking back to him makes it easy to make him want to return some sentimentality of his own. “Thanks a lot for talking with me about this Jordan. You’re really cool.”

She nods her head back and forth for a moment, donning a familiarly sly smirk as she does. “Yeah, I know,” she tells him, which makes Lincoln smile too. “I’ll see ya ‘round, Lincoln. Good luck with Lucy.”

“Thanks,” he simply says to end the conversation, and he waits for Jordan to end the call before putting the tablet down.

Once he’s sure she won’t be dialing him up again for any last minute things she may have forgotten to say, he puts the tablet to the side, and lets out a wistful sigh.

“I’ll find a way to let Jordan know how much I appreciate her some other time. Until then, back to work,” he thinks aloud, picking the notebook at his side back up, and turning over to a fresh sheet of paper.

Again, he titles it _Operation Secret Admirer,_ and then he makes his first bullet point: _poem._

From there… he finds himself in another block. Gosh, he had never put serious thought into a poem before. He’d helped Lucy find some rhymes here and there, but (and he hated to say it), he mostly did it to deal with it and get it out of the way and help her move on with her life. It was never a case of him consciously putting deep thought into the stanzas or give them actual meaning.

And, what really hurt in this moment was the realization that, maybe he just doesn’t have it in him to do what Jordan suggested. At least… not alone.

“Sure, I know Lucy. I think I do anyway. But maybe I don’t know her well enough to actually structure this thing especially for her…”

“But maybe I can ask someone for help, someone who might know enough to actually point me in the _write_ direction, heh heh.”

He looks back out his window, and sees the idle soccer ball left behind in the yard.

A little smile curves on his lips.

\-----------------------

“So, that’s where I’m at. My sister is sad and stuff about not having a Valentine, and I wanna help her out. But, you know… I’m not exactly an expert at this stuff,” Lynn Jr says to her friend, bearing a little embarrassment as she does.

She wouldn’t open up about something like this to just anyone. Heck no. Especially not any of her siblings. They wouldn’t take her as seriously anymore. But if there was one person she could trust not to go and run their mouth to the free world, it was the girl who had been a part of her softball team ever since they were seven years old. The same girl who had been her favorite classmate going out of Elementary and into Middle School, and the very same girl who took the heat for her when some certain NSFW bathroom wall art was discovered by Mrs. Johnson, who just so happened to be the volleyball coach.

Heck, Lynn considered this kid her best friend. Not that she’d ever admit it, obviously. That’d just be spazzy.

_And the only reason she trusted her to keep a secret was because she had dirt on her. Boom. Logic._

Margo ponders everything Lynn had to tell her regarding the situation with Lucy, trying to figure out just what kind of fruitful feedback she can offer her. It takes her a little bit to get the wheels turning, but eventually, she comes up with something sufficient.

“Well, I mean, I’m not exactly an expert at this stuff either. The last guy to ask me out was _Rusty,”_ she recalls with a grimace. She fixes her cringe into a smirk though. “But, if you want to gain some expertise, maybe you can talk to Francisco about this…”

Lynn feels her cheeks flush a bit, but furrows her brow. “Dude, come on. I’m trying to be for real here.”

Margo shrugs. “Hey, maybe I’m not kidding. But if you don’t want to talk about ‘Cisco, we don’t have to talk about him,” she persists before changing back to the previous subject. “So, you’re asking me what you should do about Lucy, right?”

Lynn nervously rubs her arm as she looks to the ground, an almost sickly look coming over her freckled face. (Dang it, now every time she was reminded of having freckles, she thought about ‘Cisco calling her ‘Pecas.’)

“Well, uh, yeah. I think I might have an idea on what to do for her… But I swear dude, you better not laugh, and if you tell anyone-”

“Please, Lynn. Believe it or not, my life doesn’t revolve around your business,” Margo teases with a roll of the eyes. “So just tell me what you’re thinking so I can go back to teasing you about your future husband.”

Lynn scowls at that, but decides to make like Elsa and let it go before mustering the strength to say what she wants to say.

“Okay, so, Lucy likes poetry, right?” she starts.

“From what I’ve heard you tell me about her, yeah. Why?” Margo replies.

Lynn takes a moment to firm her resolve, knowing full well that once these words escape her mouth, there’s no magically putting them back. Even if it’s all she’s going to want to do…

“Well, I was thinking… Maybe I’ll write her a poem. I’ll make it special just for her, like, really put some thought into it. And I’ll stick it in her locker while she’s at school.”

Welp, it’s out there now. All that’s left to do is wait for Margo’s upcoming roast session. Hopefully it’ll be quick and she’ll run out of steam fast… like she does during basketball. Paula was a better teammate in that regard. Yeah.

To her surprise though, Margo doesn’t laugh. She just sort of softly smiles. “Aww, Lynn. That’s actually really sweet,” she says about her idea. “Like, I can’t even joke about it. I think she’ll really love that.”

Lynn’s eyes blink a few times with surprise. No calling her a sissy or wuss. No teasing her for having feelings. Just… sincerity. It was kind of nice, actually.

“Uhm, thanks,” is all she really knows to say. Maybe it’s not sufficient enough a response, but it’s still all she knows to say.

For a moment, the two of them are quiet as they walk side by side down the sidewalk of Grove Street, just past Zach’s house. Zach was kind of a weird kid, Lynn thought. Couldn’t put a face on him even though she’d talked to him a bunch, but she still thought he was pretty alright. Definitely not the worst of Lincoln’s friends. Not as big a tool as Rusty, at least.

Eventually, Margo is able to add to her somewhat arbitrary comment regarding Lynn’s plan for Valentine’s Day.

“So… You say you’re gonna write her a poem. Have you ever like, written poetry?”

Maybe it wasn’t the most insightful thing she could hear from her friend, but it at least wasn’t a joke about Farty McStinkpants. And it was good to bounce ideas off of someone, like a tennis ball to a wall.

“Only for reading classes and stuff. But never for anything like this.”

Margo smirks. “Not even for-”

“If you say ‘for Francisco,’ I will actually punch you,” Lynn quickly asserts, glaring at her in a way that shows she’s serious about that.

Margo just laughs before getting serious again. “Fine, I won’t bring him up again. But the reason I ask is, well… I’ve never done anything like that either. I don’t think I could, honestly.”

Lynn sighs. “Yeah, I didn’t think so, either… But I really care about Lucy, ya know? I’ll do what I have to do to make her feel better.”

Margo winces with uncertainty before resting a comforting hand on the other girl’s shoulder. “Well, I think you can pull it off. But you only have _a day_ to do it.”

Lynn frowns. “Gee, thanks. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

Margo doesn’t get defensive though. “No, listen to me for a second. The reason I bring that up is, well, maybe you should go to someone for help? Like, I don’t know… That Haiku girl or something?”

Lynn thinks it over for a second as she places a finger to her chin, but she shakes her head. “Nah, I can’t go to her. I can’t trust an emo to keep a secret. They don’t care about stuff.”

Margo raises a brow. “Don’t you mean goth?”

“Pffft, is there really a difference?” Lynn scoffs with a dismissive wave.

Margo shrugs, and then for a moment, they fall into silence once again. With it, Lynn takes the opportunity to consider the options.

_“Dang it, Margo’s right. If I really wanna write a good poem for Lucy, I’m gonna have to go to someone for help.”_

_“I can’t go to her friends, they might say something to her. And I can’t trust any of my sisters. Even if I tell them not to blab, things happen, and I just can’t risk it. But if I can’t go to them, who can I go to?”_

Sisters...

A metaphorical light bulb goes off over her auburn head.

“That’s it!” she blurts out.

Margo again raises a brow. “What’s it?”

Lynn smiles proudly at her. “Lincoln!”

The other girl meets her with more confusion. “Uhm, what about Lincoln?”

Lynn stops in her tracks, feeling like she could celebrate a victory as she’s done hundreds of times before. “Lincoln will know what to write for her! He might not know it, but he’s good at talking with girls! He knows the kinds of things Lucy would like to hear! I’ll just, like, ask him stuff about what he’d write a poem for, but I won’t tell him why I’m asking! Oh man, you’re so smart, Margo!” she cheers.

Margo just dubiously laughs. “Uhm, alright? I’m uh, glad I could help?”

Lynn continues smiling proudly, looking skyward with a newfound sense of optimism. Meanwhile, her teammate puts on a thinking face.

“Hey, I just thought of something,” she states.

Lynn just responds with an inquisitive expression.

“So, you said you’re going to put the poem in her locker. How are you going to get it there when you have to go to school?”

 _“Curse you and your overthinking!”_ Lynn sarcastically thinks before using her brain to work through that conundrum. It doesn’t take her very long to figure something out, though. Contrary to popular belief, she’s got a really nice brain. Works really good.

She grins, satisfied with what she’s come up with. “Don’t worry about that. Anything is possible for Lynn Loud Jr.”

\-----------------------

Later that evening, things are relatively quiet at casa Loud. Lori texts Bobby fifty reasons why she loves Luan, Leni complains to Lori about her sister annoying her (she forgets which one halfway through though). Luna sneaks into the garage in an attempt to sing Disney songs without anyone hearing her, Luan is MIA… some suspect she might be playing video games or babysitting, but honestly, no one is sure. They just know she’ll be back in the morning.

The twins are behaving themselves for once and bonding over cartoons, Lisa is pretending to work on documenting for a project, but she’s actually just playing a dumb game on her PC while trying to forget how angry Lily made her earlier for bawling so much.

The middle children are all rather busy with their own business though, all for the very same reason: Valentine’s Day. Yes, that holiday with a polarizing reputation for being too sweet and saccharine for even most hopeless of romantics. The same holiday that people stress for weeks over hoping to get their special someone the perfect gift, sometimes going as far as to throw caution to the wind to show just _how much_ they care for them for the very first time.

For Lucy, it’s not so fun thinking of these things, because she’s stayed in her bedroom since returning home from school. The only thing she’s eaten is stale Zombie Bran, and she’s gone through an entire box of tissues after crying so much.

On the other hand, she’s at least had her privacy…

Lynn paces back and forth in the backyard, taking her hands in and out of her hoodie pockets to check on her phone, wanting to see if there might be any new notifications.

“It’s been ten minutes, what the heck is he doing?” she curses out loud as she looks to the text message she sent her younger brother.

**Lynn: yo stinkoln. got somethin important 2 talk about. meet me out back in a bit.**

**Lincoln: *eye rolling emoji* Okay, but only because you actually punctualized your text this time.**

Part of her is annoyed by that, because she’s actually been trying harder to move past ‘text talk.’ But she is mostly just amused because she knows Lincoln would come for her no matter what she told him, and that he had the gall to actually respond with some snarkiness for once.

She can’t help but sigh with some relief at that thought. Despite everything they’d been through, for better or worse, they managed to still be pretty dang close. Lynn had to admit that on most days, he had to be her favorite sibling. She might like how rough and fun Lana and Luna can get, or how sweet and endearing Leni and Lily can be, but no one goes as far for the family as the self proclaimed man with the plan. She knew that, the whole family knew that.

It’s the only reason she feels confident enough to summon him for this important meeting. One that will reveal a few things about her… like, how she actually has feelings, and how she cares enough about someone to write a _poem_ for them. Something that is definitely not her strong suit, especially considering who Lincoln named her Ace Savvy counterpart after…

Even so, she knows deep down in her very healthy heart that this is for the best. She might have to break out a camel clutch if Stinkoln quips about her having a crush on someone, but hey, if that’s the worst that happens, this will be a good encounter.

It’s for Lucy, after all. The only girl she’d _ever_ consider doing something like this for.

...

Meanwhile, Lincoln takes a deep breath in front of the bathroom mirror before zipping up his orange hoodie.

“I can do this… I can do this…” he repeats to himself.

That’s when he turns to make his way out the bathroom, and head on down to meet his sporty fifth sister.

There’s trepidation regarding her cryptic text message, because there could be countless reasons why she’d ask him to meet her at this time of night, and his worry-wort mind makes him consider only the _negative_ possibilities. Some of them might lead to him enduring some pain before tonight is over.

But he’ll be a man and go face her, because he too has a mission. The same mission. Make sure he doesn’t mess up his gift for his eight year old sister.

And hey, he might be worrying about nothing. Lynn might just want to spar, or go for a jog or something. Maybe she just needs a spotter.

Either way, for better or worse, he knows that the moment he asks her about Valentine’s Day… there won’t be any turning back. No ink ribbons to save a checkpoint and load up if something goes wrong. No rewind powers to go back and choose different words.

Just the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth…

Only, he won’t mention Lucy by name. Can’t risk his secret being jeopardized.

And, in a dramatically ironic sort of way, Lynn keeps the same thing in mind as she looks up to the sky, seeing where the lines meets the sky and the stars. There’s just no telling how this will go.

“Anything for Lucy,” they both say to themselves as they anticipate their encounter.

…

Lincoln finally makes it down to the backdoor, and does a look around to be sure he isn’t being followed. It would be a real pain in the neck if one of his sisters chose now to come looking for him, especially if Lucy decided to come out of her room. Not that he would mind comforting her if he needed to. Heck, he’d drop everything, take Lynn’s butt kicking later, and _still_ find time to work on a poem for her. Still… he liked keeping his metaphorical ducks in a row.

He takes a deep breath, and opens the door to find Lynn leaned against the railing of the porch. Gone is her usual bravado. No balls, no hockey sticks, no headbands or elbow pads. No, she simply idles there with a somewhat impatient glare. It shifts into a pleasant gaze as her eyes meet him though, her auburn hair glowing beneath the lights of the neon moon.

“Hey,” she simply greets, almost anxiously.

“Hey,” he responds, conveying the same lack of certainty.

There’s immediate establishment of tension, but it isn’t a bad thing. In fact, it’s almost comforting for both of them to see that this won’t lead to any choice words. Some confusion, maybe. But once they get past the awkwardness (and maybe a camel clutch), things will be aces.

Lynn hopes so, at least.

She thinks of how to start this conversation, and while she’s usually one to get straight to the point, she can’t help but feel some nervousness about touching on the topic of stupid Valentine’s Day… Even if it is with someone like Lincoln, a guy who might actually appreciate the holiday.

So, rather than just spitting out what she really needs to say, she decides to engage a little more casually.

“How’s it going?” she starts, nervously smiling and rubbing the back of her neck.

Lincoln raises a brow at her gesture. “Uhm, I’m okay. I’ve kind of had a day, aheh…”

“Yeah, I can get that,” Lynn weakly laughs too before looking away, letting her eyes meet the cool green grass beyond the porch.

There’s cold comfort to be found in it, much like this situation. _“Why does this have to be so hard?”_ she thinks.

Her eyes then wander up to the stars once more, and all Lincoln can do is watch with anticipation as he waits for her to say… more.

She’s at a loss of words for a moment before letting out a little amused scoff. “Man, I picked a good time to hang out here,” she comments, and then she fixes her eyes on her brother.

He relaxes a little upon seeing her let her guard down, and even takes a step forward. “What makes you say that?” he asks.

Lynn weakly half smiles as she leans her head a little to the side, trying to decide whether or not what she has to say is worth really sharing. She could give him her heart, and he could turn around… but she’s faithful it will be okay.

If she’s going to trust this kid, and if she’s going to write some stinkin’ poetry… maybe it won’t hurt a little to rewrite this song. It’s not a secret she should try to hide.

With that, she takes a deep breath. “It’s really pretty out here. Seeing all the stars and stuff,” she begins.

Lincoln tries to read her, but he isn’t sure what to think. All he can tell for certain from the way she defensively leans against that railing, moving her eyes back and forth between the night sky and his snowy self, is that whatever she’s called him to talk about, it has to be important.

And if there’s anything he’s lived today knowing, it’s that no matter what happens, his sisters will always come first.

He decides to join her at her side, smiling his own weak little grin. “Yeah, it really is beautiful out here tonight,” he agrees.

Part of him wants to follow up on that. Part of him wants to say, _“Like Lucy,”_ but that would give too much away. Part of him wants to say, _“Like Jordan,”_ but that would derail his plans more than any other relative chaos. And truthfully, part of him wants to just look to Lynn and tell her, _“Like you.”_ But with the way things are, with the way the world is, he knows he can’t just tell his sister, Lynn most of all, that she’s beautiful without her taking it the wrong way.

So, instead, he just keeps quiet, choosing to wait for her to be the next to say something. After all, she does have a number one patched to her shirt.

But with that comes silence, a longing perpetuation of stillness, both boy and girl waiting for someone to say what they both really know, what they both really feel, but what neither of them understands the other is going through.

Finally, it gets to both of them, and they both perk up to say something at the very same moment.

“Lynn-”

“Lincoln-”

“You go ahead,” he says to her.

“Uh, wait, what were you gonna say?”

Part of him wants to go ahead and just break through the barrier and tell her what’s troubling him, but he decides that it would be selfish. She texted him to meet with her about something important, and whether or not it was as important to him as his dilemma with Lucy doesn’t matter. What matters more is letting her get the weight off her chest, and if that means Lucy has to wait, well… dang, she’d have to wait…

“Uh, it can wait. You texted me,” he reminds her. “Did you need to talk about something?”

Part of her wished he would just take the spotlight for himself for a moment. It would have given her just a little more time to think about how to go about this, or whether or not she really even should.

But, as much as she might want to, there are mountains, and doors she can’t run through. This is just something she has to soldier through, even if it’s weird, embarrassing, awkward… _hard._

So, she braces herself for deep impact. “Here goes nothing,” she utters.

“Lincoln, what I’m about to say to you really isn’t easy for me. For a lot of reasons I’d just rather not get into,” she confesses. “But I’m coming to you because, well, to be honest, I’m kind of desperate. I have something I need help with, something I can’t do on my own, and the only person I can trust not to blab to everyone else is you. Are you pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down?”

Lincoln digests her statement, hardly questioning the conviction behind her words.

“Lynn, seriously. Whatever it is, you can count on me. I won’t say anything,” he promises. “Besides, we both know you can kick my butt if I do,” he jokingly adds.

Lynn sneers at that. “Well, I didn’t want to have to threaten you, but glad we’re at an understanding,” she plays along before getting serious again. “Seriously though, dude. This… this is pretty important to me, and I don’t want you to think I’m just, like… I don’t even know. I guess I’m just trying to tell you, I wouldn’t go to just _anyone_ to talk about this.”

Lincoln warmly smiles at her sentiment. “Okay. I’m all ears,” he tells her.

She’s tempted to make a joke about how he’s actually all feet, but she decides that, she’d rather leave jokes out of the conversation. Especially since the mood just seems so right.

Watching years of professional wrestling gave her a flair for the dramatic.

With the establishment of trust seemingly respected by her brother, she decides there’s no sense in doddling any longer. If there’s ever going to be a time to lay it on the line, it’s right here and now.

“Well, here’s the story. I uh… I wanna show someone I care about them. Tomorrow. On Valentine’s Day.”

Lincoln gets wide eyed upon hearing this. Lynn Loud Jr? Talking to him about _Valentine’s Day?_ Sure, he saw her get excitable about Francisco during the love letter craze, but everyone was pretty hectic that day, and he hadn’t heard anything about him since Sam and Luna started going steady. It just kind of escaped his mind…

But here she is, getting ready to open up to him about… a special someone.

She’s about to, anyway. But her doubts get the better of her again. “Lincoln, I swear to god, dude. If you tell anyone about this-”

“Chill out,” he interrupts. “I won’t say anything to anybody. I just want to help you anyway I can.”

Lynn ebbs on the aggression as she lets out a sigh. “Sometimes I want to punch you in your chipped tooth,” she teases before continuing. “So, I have an idea on what to do for them, but, uhm… I just, I’m not sure how to go about it. I’m not sure if I can make it perfect just for _them,”_ she admits.

Lincoln considers her words, dumbfounded at just how easily he’s able to relate to her problem. If he didn’t know any better, he would guess she’s talking about the same girl on his troubled mind...

Nevertheless, he decides his own issues aren’t so important. “Well, okay, I might be able to help you,” he says to her. “Do you mind if I ask who you’re talking about? I mean, I might be able to do more if you tell me that much.”

For a little while, Lynn just loses herself looking into the boy’s glossy blue eyes. God, she kind of hated just how easy he made this. Why did he have to be so nice and easy to talk to? Not like stupid Margo.

But she liked Margo. And she loves her brother. Enough to just trust him.

And with this in mind, she decides that, some things are just better done spontaneously. Maybe it wasn’t part of the plan, but maybe there’s still time to rewrite this song… to rewrite the stars.

She rolls her eyes as she pussyfoots around just saying it. “It’s… It’s for Lucy,” she quietly reveals.

Again, Lincoln’s eyes widen as those words register in his mind.

It’s for Lucy, as in, whatever she has in mind, she’s doing it for her little sister, her roommate, the very same girl Lincoln was hoping he could come and talk to her about without actually saying it because he was so afraid something would go wrong.

But now, his little heart starts fluttering faster and harder. Not because of fear, no. But because he realizes now that he doesn’t have to be afraid of anything. He doesn’t have to shut her out or slam the door, he doesn’t have to keep his distance anymore.

He smiles at this. “Lynn, you’re getting Lucy a present for Valentine’s Day?!”

“Shhh! Quiet, dumby!” she scolds him before doing a little head roll to make sure the coast is clear. Thankfully, it is. “Yeah, I heard her crying earlier about not having a date tomorrow. She feels really bad,” she continues.

“She feels like no one notices her,” Lincoln states, trying to make it obvious he knows just what she means.

Lynn raises her brow. “Wait, what do you mean by that?” she asks him.

Lincoln perks up as he takes a step away from her, having pep in his step for the first time since this afternoon. “Lynn, _I_ heard her say the same thing!”

The resident jock just looks to him with incredulousness as she awaits an explanation, and Lincoln is happy to give her one.

“Okay, so I saw her walking home from school, and I noticed she was crying,” he starts.

“Okay, so you also have a weird thing for creepin’ on your sisters from your window,” Lynn interjects.

“Never mind that,” Lincoln disregards, refusing to let her witticisms becomes interlopers for his train of thought. “Here’s what’s funny. I was going to come to you and ask you what _I_ should do for her tomorrow, too!”

Lynn retains her confused expression, barely believing what she’s hearing. It sounds like something out of kids’ cartoon or whatever. “What? You’re yankin’ my chain,” she replies.

“Not even!” Lincoln chirps, and he looks around before lowering his voice as he elaborates. “I know I want to do something to try and make her feel better about Valentine’s Day. I just… I don’t know that I can do a good enough job on my own. I really wanna make this perfect for her, but…”

“But you’re worried you won’t get it right,” Lynn finishes for him.

Lincoln looks to her, and she looks to him, a powerful aura of compassion and understanding lingering in the air surrounding them. Their minds are in sync. Their _hearts_ are in sync. Never have they been more on the same page about anything in their short, young lives.

It’s Lynn to break the silence again. “Okay, so, you say you want to do something for her too? Like, get her a present so she won’t feel… unnoticed?”

Lincoln considers her words for a moment. In them, there’s understanding in the objective. They both know what will be done. That’s not what puzzles him. What he finds interesting is the way she says it, like she’s unsure about something else.

“Yeah, that’s the plan. Don’t you think it’s a good one?” he asks her.

She ponders what she wants to respond with for a short while before deciding she’s okay with speaking up. “Yeah, it’s brilliant. That’s why I thought of it first,” she somewhat jokingly says. “What I don’t understand is… why did you come to me? You could have gone to Lori or Dad or whatever. Why me?”

Lincoln thinks it over for a moment. In a way, he almost has to answer her question for the both of them as the reasons come to his mind.

“Well, for starters, you’re her roommate. I’d like to think that, whether you’ll admit it or not, you and Lucy are really close. You would notice things about her that the rest of us wouldn’t,” he explains.

He takes pause so she can respond with what he expects to be self doubt about her having to come to him for help, or maybe just something about how she isn’t good with this mushy stuff. Surprisingly though, she says nothing. She just stays quiet as she grants him her attention.

Seeing this, he decides to press on.

“It’s not just that, though. I know you guys are close,” he reiterates. “But the thing is, I’d like to think _we’re_ close too. I’d like to think you and I could talk about this and just be able to keep it between us,” he admits to her.

She looks to him with a sense of somberness in her golden brown eyes, refusing to let herself become overwhelmed despite the gravity behind his words. These weren’t things a person told someone casually. He was saying these things in an attempt to reach some sort of new understanding, and she realizes that. Enough to not only respect it, but to also appreciate it while it lasts.

After all, it’s actually really nice to hear.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that,” she says to him with a sincere little smile.

He returns the gesture, and for a moment, the two of them fall into silence as they let the weight of everything that’s been said resonate inside of them.

The calm quiet lasts for what seems like a few minutes, but it's only a matter of winter seconds. Just barely enough time for a gust of wind to blow through, enough time for one cricket to be heard chirping in the far distance. It’s just long enough for both Lynn and Lincoln to decompress a little, and enough time for the young boy to think of how to keep the silence from overstaying its welcome.

“You know, for a little bit, I thought maybe you were talking about Francisco,” he mocks.

Lynn meets him with a furrowed brow at first, but upon seeing the way he smirks at her like a wise ass, she eases up. “To think we’ve come this far, and I just now remember I can lock you in a camel clutch,” she ripostes.

It’s a nice little break from all the seriousness, and they share a little laugh before the wheels get to turning in Ms. Loud’s thirteen year old head.

“So what do you have in mind? For her present I mean?”

Lincoln grins again. “Why don’t you answer first? I have a funny feeling we might have the same idea.”

She amusedly rolls her eyes before reluctantly answering, “A poem.”

She sees the way his cheeks beam brightly at her response, and that’s all it takes for her to realize that, yes, they were in fact on the same page all along. (Luan would make a pun about that if she were here. _Page.)_

“It just makes sense, doesn’t it?” she adds.

“Yeah, it just does,” Lincoln answers. However, some of his pride wanes as he remembers just what made him come to Lynn in the first place. “I just hope I can write something that isn’t total trash.”

Again, they fall into silence. Maybe it’s because they both feel the same way, maybe it’s because they don’t want to take the risk of saying something too sappy to kill the happy medium of sincere and normal sibling talk.

But with the silence, Lincoln’s mind begins to wander, and it wanders into a warren he’s not so sure he can easily ignore. A query comes to mind, and he decides that, if there is ever going to be a time to actually ask it, it needs to be right heckin’ now.

“Lynn, can I ask you something?” he begins.

Her eyes meet his again, and a small “Hmm?” hums from her lips. At this point, he can see that maybe she’s a little tired. Maybe she’s a little sad. Heck, maybe she just needs a minute to adjust to the way things have gotten so sentimental.

Regardless of whether or not those things are true or false, he doesn’t want to slip up now. Maybe this will kill any momentum he had, but the heck with it. They had a reason to just be open with each other for a little while, and he liked to think they can roll with it. It gives him enough gumption to at least ask his dang question, anyway.

“Does this like, have anything to do with you? Like, you don’t feel the same way as Lucy, do you?”

It takes Lynn a little off guard. Like a sneaky kick in a game of soccer, or a pass in a game of basketball. But unlike a game, this is real life. Her actions will have consequences that go far past winning and losing.

If she’s dishonest, well, she’s spared the embarrassment of opening up about her _feelings_ and crud to her nosy little brother.

But if she is honest? Well… maybe she’ll feel a little better. And for a temporary fix up, that sounds pretty good.

For a long lasting memory of a time where she was able to just tell someone her true feelings without feeling guilty about it? That’s even better.

“I mean, I’ll be honest. Yeah, sometimes I don’t think boys notice me the way they do the girly girls. I’m pretty sure the last guy to ask me out was your weird friend Rusty.”

“He is weird,” Lincoln quips.

“Gingers are weird,” Lynn jokes back. “But uhm, I don’t know. Yeah, maybe I’m kind of doing this to help myself feel a little better too. I didn’t really think about that until right now, really.”

Yeah, she says that. And for the most part, Lincoln believes it. But he can also see in the way she hangs her head a little lowly that this isn’t something she’s ignored or tried to repress. No, she just never really let it bother her until the last few minutes of the final quarter. It was one thing to not let girls and their stupid boyfriends bother her any other time of the year. But the fourteenth of February? It probably sucks to be one of the girls who doesn’t get a bouquet of flowers, or a box of candies, or just a short letter.

He knows a thing or two about that.

Still, they both know what Lucy is going through. Enough to conclude they should put so much effort into writing her poems.

But Lucy isn’t his only sister, and right now, he knows he has to tell Lynn something more.

“Well… For what it’s worth, I notice you. I know hearing that from your little brother compared to some cool guy like Francisco isn’t the same, but I still think you’re really great. And I know I’m not the only guy- I’m not the only _person_ who sees that,” he tells her.

Maybe it wasn’t the most groundbreaking or prosey thing he could have said. Heck, maybe he should have tried harder to show just how much she means to him.

But she doesn’t seem disappointed at all in the way she looks to him with her glossy, humble puppy eyes.

“I really appreciate that, Lincoln,” she tells him. And from the quiet, serious tone of her voice, he can tell she means it.

It allows for some silence to come over the two once again, a similarly comfortable silence where words aren’t really needed. They’ve reached a point where their hearts don’t really pound anymore, and their palms aren’t quite as sweaty. This was supposed to be the scariest thing in the world, but somehow, because of who they were talking to… it just isn’t anymore.

“So what about you? You gonna ask Jordan to Gus’ Games N Grub? Or Rusty maybe?” Lynn asks him in return. Partly because she wants to lighten the mood, but mostly because she just wants to know.

“Nah, not this year. I’ve got a date with my notebook,” Lincoln smirks.

She sees the way he tries to play it cool. Yeah, normally, she might buy it. Lincoln isn't one to get super excitable when things don't go his way.

_Okay, there was that thing with The Harvester. And the time he had to bunk with Lily. And the time he overthrew Lori as babysitter._

Okay, so maybe he could get excitable when things didn't go his way. But even if he did, he would keep it to himself to the best of his ability. No sense in dragging everyone else down.

But in this moment, the wind starts howling like a swirling storm inside. Lynn is getting pumped, getting ready, and about to drop the heaviest of all proverbial beats. She won't just ensure her little sister has a better Valentine's Day, she'll make sure the boy she affectionately calls Stinkoln will too!

“Well, guess what, loser. Now you’ve got a date with me,” she proclaims.

He dons a Dwayne Johnson eyebrow. “What?”

She pulls him in with an arm around his shoulder, squeezing tightly as the epiphanic lightbulb returns to her. “Yup. Teamwork makes the dream work. You and me are gonna work on this thing together, and we’re gonna make it perfect for Lucy so she sees just how loved and appreciated and all that mumbo jumbo she really is!”

It catches him completely by surprise. When he first imagined this conversation, he imagined the only arm being flung around him being one for a clutch to make the Iron Sheik proud. He could not have imagined Lynn having the same idea to write a poem for Lucy, let alone offering to come together to help.

But he sees the excitement in her eyes, the energy in the first she has clenched in the air with Saiyan pride. She's serious, more serious than he's seen her in a long time.

“Alright. Let’s do it. Let’s work together on this,” he agrees with a smile.

But to his surprise, she responds with the following as she practically drops him. “Not so fast, bro. Before I say yes, you have to answer a question.”

Girls. They never were easy to make deals with.

“What is it?” Lincoln asks.

She meets him with an intentful gaze. “You asked me if I was doing this for myself. What about you? Is this just you being the sweet little goody two shoes angel you always are? Or are you feeling unnoticed too?”

He's seen this from her multiple times. Beneath the condescending quips, there's concern. She isn't asking to be nosy, or to be sure he'll be at one hundred percent for the game tomorrow. This isn't the razzing of a teammate, this is the call to arms of a loved one, the attempt to reach out from someone who actually cares.

She just did it the way she knew how. The Lynn Loud Jr way.

“What do you think?” he simply, powerfully responds, not even attempting to joke back.

She nods with respect, like Thanos after snapping the universe into balance. Whatever she expected him to say doesn't matter nearly as much as the conclusion she's drawn.

“I think after we finish this poem, you and I need to check out Gus’ Games N Grub. I’ll show you all the cool places you can take Jordan when you finally man up and ask her out.”

Heh, of course she'd bring up Girl Jordan. But Lincoln has to admit to himself, taking some time to hang out with Lynnsanity one on one at one of his favorite places sounds really great..

“Not tomorrow of course. I don’t want people mistaking me for your girlfriend,” she adds, ever ready to remind him that above all else, she's a smart ass.

Two can play at that game though.

“Alright, well if you don’t take me there tomorrow, at least promise me you’ll make a move on Francisco some time.”

She smirks, but not with arrogance. It's a kind of sweet smirk. Almost like she's flattered. “Not really my style, Linc. Gonna wait for him to come to me.”

As much as he'd like to keep the ball rolling with the fun, clever comebacks, he can't help but let those mushy feelings from before seep their way back into his mind. He wants what's best for Lynn. He really does.

“You might be waiting a while, though.”

She can see that he wasn't trying to play around, but even so, his words don't shake her. She keeps her resolve firm, and meets him with a smile.

“I like waiting. I know when someone finally comes along, it’ll be the right someone.”

He can't think of anything better to say. That just sounded really nice. So, he just smiles in return.

The older girl gives him a light jab to the forearm, and makes her way to the door of the house. “Alright, pipsqueak, I'll be in your room in ten minutes with Dr. Pepper and Zebra Cakes. We're gonna write this poem and make it the best ding dang thing Lucy's ever read!” she cheers before rushing inside.

Lincoln frowns, “You know I can't have Zebra Cakes!” But he doesn't let it deter him. After all, he had a really nice moment with his sister just now.

And he has another sister to give a nice moment tomorrow.

\-----------------------

“Nuh nuh nuh nuh… Nuh nuh nuh nuh… Lynn Possible,” a certain brown haired girl wearing an all black ninja outfit quietly sings as she sneaks her way through the halls of Royal Woods Elementary School.

Lincoln suggested he just ask to use a bathroom break during his morning class, but Lynn shot that idea down quickly. _“That’s boring! Laaaaaame!”_ she told him.

They spent hours working on their collaboration for their younger sister, putting all of their collective prosey prowess into making sure the poem conveys just how much they truly appreciate Lucy for the things that make her _her._ Sure, Lynn made a few misspelling and grammar errors, and even took a forty five minute break to eat waffles… but when she came back, she was sure to push Lincoln to the side so she could pound out a few stanzas of her own. Stanzas that turned out very well, in the white haired boy’s opinion.

“These suck! Sorry Lincoln, I’m really trying here…”

“Are you kidding? These are perfect! Awesome, Lynn!”

“You really mean that?”

“I really do.”

It was a night well spent, and maybe they fell asleep sitting next to each other before they could actually finish… But upon waking up in the morning, the same surges of motivation and adrenaline gave them the might to complete the poem to their liking.

And some Google beta named Seth told them their grammerz wuz good.

So, here and now, Lynnja parkours her way through the empty school halls, treading carefully like she’s in the Raccoon City Police Station as she makes a stop at a certain black haired goth girl’s locker.

And when she realizes that the locker is actually Haiku’s, and Lucy’s locker is the one beside of it, she makes sure to shove her letter through the small opening of the door, watching as it lands safely in the right mistress of darkness’ locker.

“Score!” she whispers to herself.

Suddenly, she hears footsteps…

Principal Huggins, a man Lynn affectionately called “Mustache” during her elementary years, walks his way around the bend, and when he does, he finds… nothing. Nothing at all. No students whatsoever standing in this very corridor.

He shrugs and lets out a “Mmm,” before walking his way through and around the next corner, not even noticing the open window letting in a draft just above the row of lockers.

…

A few minutes later, the dismissal bell for the first morning classes rings, and students all file their way out to continue the rest of their Valentine’s Day.

Some of them tout about how they’ve received nice little cards, or letters from secret admirers, or candy canes (yes, candy canes) from Rusty Spokes. Stella and Jordan just regift theirs to each other and they laugh about it.

However, Lucy Loud walks out of her first period class carrying only the things she brought with her.

“Sigh,” she dejectedly sighs as she begins slowly trudging her way through the hall. She’s never in any hurry, she’s never concerned with smiling. But today, she just truly feels sad. Sad and alone…

“Hello Lucy,” a familiarly monotone voice greets from behind her. This might have startled her on any other day, but right now, Lucy barely even turns her head to acknowledge the taller girl.

“Sigh… Hello Haiku.”

The other goth looks to her with a signature lack of enthusiasm. “I would tell you Happy Valentine’s Day, but I don’t see any reason to be happy about it,” she bluntly states.

Lucy rigidly frowns. “Yeah. You can say that again…”

Haiku weakly winces before pulling something out of her pocket. “Want a candy cane?”

Lucy dismissively waves at her. “No Haiku, I don’t want anything. I just want this day to be over,” she shamelessly professes.

Haiku thinks over her words for a moment as they approach their adjacent lockers.

“Okay, normally I have nothing but brooding to offer you… or Lord Ottamada,” she states, referring to the ancient, disgusting vampire she carries a faded portrait of in her pendant. “But you’re even bumming _me_ out.”

Lucy lets out a heavy sigh as she places her hand to the handle of her locker. “Sigh… I’m sorry, Haiku. I just… I know I act like I don’t really care about a lot of things. But the truth is, I was really hoping someone would notice me today. It’d be nice to just be made to feel special for once…”

Haiku winces again before donning...  not a smile, but not a frown either. “I’m sorry too, Lucy. And no, I’m not just going to leave after saying that like I did with Silas after the thing with the candle and the paper bag,” she assures her. She then places a comforting hand on the smaller girl’s shoulder, showing her that, she really isn’t alone.

Lucy actually smiles a little as she places her own hand on type of Haiku’s, showing that she appreciates her sentiment with this and a “Thanks.”

Haiku smiles a little too, and they remove their hands from one another to tend to their lockers.

Upon opening hers, Lucy finds a strange white envelope falling and fluttering its way down to the floor below.

“What the?” she utters.

Haiku peeks over too with an eyebrow raise over her one exposed eye. “What’s that?”

Lucy can only stare and blink at the thing for a moment, unsure of how to react. Could it… could it be what she thinks it is?

There’s only one way to be sure, so she picks it up off the floor (she’ll definitely wash her hands as soon as possible), and gives it a proper study.

On the white envelope, there are little black, red, and white hearts inked on it, and her own name written in fancy calligraphy.

She turns it over, and with a hurry, she opens it to pull the contents out.

A folded up piece of fine stationery unflaps itself open, and at the very top of what would appear to be _many_ lines of words, there is a signature…

_From your secret admirer._

\-----------------------

Later that day…

Lincoln and Lynn decided to meet up with each other as soon as possible. Naturally, their young, excitable selves couldn’t just go through the day and _not_ talk about what they expect from their sister when they get home.

“Do you really think she’ll like it?” Lincoln asks. “Like, seriously. What if we didn’t write the poem well enough? What if she just feels bad not knowing who sent her the gift? What if she finds out its from us?”

Lynn jostles him to shake him to his senses. “Chill, dude. She’s gonna love it,” she simply says, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

There’s no chance in Vince McMahon’s hell that she’ll tell him how she has her worries too.

Lincoln takes a moment to decompress, letting out a sigh like their younger sister would. “Alright, you’re right. I know you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right! There’s a reason you came to me for help in the first place, right?” Lynn declares a little haughtily.

He raises his brow at her with a little smirk. “Yeah yeah, Miss _text me to ask about ‘something important,’”_ he ribs back.

Lynn nods. “Well, you’re glad I did, aren’t you?”

Lincoln feels his cheeks pinkening a little bit, kind of how Lynn’s are. “Yeah… Yeah I am.”

For a moment, they fall into a similar silence that they fell into a few times last night. It doesn’t last very long though, because Lynn planned for this in advance! Ahh yeah, son! Planning ahead for the win!

“So, I gotta ask. Did you have any luck today?” she asks him to break the silence, ebbing a bit on the playfulness.

“Huh?” Lincoln responds, failing to understand just what she means by this at first. Once it registers though, he lets out a sad little, “Oh… No. No such luck today.”

Lynn winces and nods as she nasally sighs. “Yeah. I hate no such luck.”

Lincoln considers why she would ask him this, and feels compelled to reply with “What about you?”

She simply shakes her head. “Nope.”

Lincoln meets her with a similar response, but he finds a pleasant surprise when Lynn softly smiles.

“It’s okay. There’s always next year.”

Hearing that she can find a light in the grey makes the boy feel a little reassured. But more than anything, he can’t help but feel a little excitement brewing inside of him. The same kind of adrenaline Lynn probably has to feel before giving a big speech to her fellow Turkey Jerkies, or what she feels before going for a winning goal.

“You know, why wait until next year?” he begins, hardly hesitating. “Valentine’s Day is cool and all, but I was thinking about what you said last night. If I really wanna just… you know, _talk_ to somebody. I’ll just do it when it feels right,” he blurts out.

Seeing her brother get serious about this, it gives Lynn a sense of pride. She always liked it when he got pumped up like this. And, he’s right. Every word he said was a nail on the head.

“Yeah, I totally agree,” she tells him, warmly smiling and choosing to leave it at that.

Lincoln though, he still feels a little amped up. A little eager to take on the world and stick it to them. He took a chance on writing this poem for Lucy. He took a chance opening up to Lynn last night and just now. What’s the worst that can happen if he goes a little further? This Valentine’s Day was already better than it had any right to be.

So, that’s when he decides to buck up, and say something that’s been on his mind for a little while now…

“Hey Lynn?”

She just looks to him with a mirthful, tame look in her eyes.

“If you were serious about that uh... going to Gus’ Games N Grub together... I mean, tomorrow isn’t Valentine’s Day...”

Once the words have escaped his mouth, he feels a strong desire to just grab them and shove them back in somehow. Like, now would be a great time for a do-over. Or a really convenient distraction. Something, _anything_ to make Lynn forget he just asked her about this.

At first, she narrows her eyes, almost judgingly. Dang, things were going so well too. Now things would just be weird between them until they get home…

But, to his surprise, a small little smile curves on her freckled face.

“Alright Stinkoln. I’ll be nice and take you on your first date so you don’t feel like a total dweeb.”

Yeah, she makes sure to tease and razz. I mean, she’s Lynn Loud Jr. That’s what she does.

But the way she smiles, the way she looks to him, she actually hopes he can see that… she’s happy he remembered. She’s happy he brought it back up.

And Lincoln, being the astute little man he is, he isn’t so blind to that. It’s why he smiles back.

“Oh really? I was kind of thinking the same thing about you.”

It gets her to actually laugh. Not just a little chortle, but a nice belly laugh. Dang, the little jerk really knew how to get on her level sometimes....

“Shut up,” she simply responds, and with that, they just enjoy spending the rest of their walk home together as the sun shines brightly on this Valentine’s Day.

\-----------------------

Finally, the two middle siblings make it home, entering through the front door of their suburban house with smiles encroached on their faces, and laughter escaping them.

“Okay, yeah. You’ll ask out Haiku, and I’ll ask out Paula. That will go really well,” Lynn teases as they step inside and begin disrobing their jackets.

“Alright. Awesome. I’ll do you one better,” Lincoln continues. “I’ll get Luna to ask out Carol Pingrey.”

Lynn laughs hard at that. “PFFFT! In what? Your Ace Savvy AU?!”

After exchanging the good humor, they both settle down to get ready for business.

“Okay, it looks like Lucy made it home already,” Lincoln points out as she notices her jacket hung up on the coat rack.

“Alright. Cool. So uhm, I’ll walk up first, and just kind of play it off cool. Then _you_ walk on up, act like you’re uh, I dunno, something... and we’ll go from there,” Lynn plans out.

“Sounds good,” Lincoln agrees with a thumbs up, and he hangs behind as he watches Lynn make her way up the stairs.

With the moment to himself, he lets his mind wander…

“Hmm. Haiku is kind of cute. Probably not interested in a guy like me though,” he decides. “Oh well. At least Lynn is around. I’m lucky to have a sister as awesome as her.”

He idles by the doorway for a moment longer, taking time to appreciate just how quiet the house is for once. He loved spending time with all of his family, absolutely. But it was nice to have days like today, days where he could take time to reflect on who he is, and his relationships with the individuals he loves most.

Today, it was supposed to only be Lucy. He got lucky though. Pot of Greed allowed him to draw Lynn from his deck too.

Deciding that enough time has passed, he goes ahead and makes his way up the stairs to follow in Lynn’s steps. He isn’t sure what he expected really, but one thing’s for certain… he did not expect to find Lynn standing outside of a closed door, holding her ear to it with a fretful look on her face.

“Uh oh,” he utters before sneaking his way over to join her.

Lynn makes a shushing gesture with her finger, trying to focus all of her thoughts on the sounds coming from behind the door. Lincoln makes the decision to join her at her side, and carefully presses his own ear to the door as well, inches away from his other sister’s face.

That’s when he hears it again. The same heartbreaking sound of sobbing that Lucy sounded yesterday just like this.

She hated it. She hated the poem. She hated what it said. She hated that a secret admirer is just about as real as the vampire bust she vents her frustrations to. She hated today, she hated Valentine’s Day even more than she already did.

And it’s all his fault…

He hangs his head low with defeat as he steps away from the door. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to. Lynn already knows just how he feels, because, truth be told, she feels exactly the same way.

It was one thing to lose when nothing was really at stake. She learned a season or two ago to let bygones be bygones. But when it really mattered? When it really, _really_ mattered? Like it does now?

No, she won’t let this be how today ends. She won’t let Lucy and Lincoln spend the rest of their February fourteenth sulking and crying over things that could have been. No stinkin’ way.

She doesn’t even think about it. She just starts pounding her fist on the door, rapping as hard as she can to get the attention of the girl on the other side.

“Lucy? Lucy! Open up! Open up!”

The only thing she hears in response is her eight year old sister’s sniffles.

“That tears it,” she voices, and she takes a few steps away from the door to brace herself.

Lincoln just looks to her with some skepticism, wondering what she could possibly be planning. What she ends up doing doesn’t really surprise or disappoint him, but he still cringes as he watches her barge into the bedroom, actually knocking the door off its hinges and onto the ground.

The girl recovers from the impact to look up to Lucy, and Lincoln is quick to follow her.

The gothic girl sits Indian style on her bed, holding the poem in her hands. Her cheeks are a little red and puffy from crying, and there are several tissues wadded up and packed in the trash can, probably not Edwin’s doing.

However, her posture doesn’t convey sadness. In fact, she seems more amused (or as amused as she’ll ever show) than anything at the sudden interruption from her immediately older siblings.

“The door wasn’t locked. You could have just opened it,” she casually tells them.

They look to each other with a little dubiousness, and then Lynn stands up to dust herself off and clear her throat. “Mhm. Well… Uhm… We will worry about that later.”

Lincoln takes it upon himself to tend to the more pressing issue. “Lucy, are you okay?” he asks.

To his and Lynn’s surprise, the girl puts on a seldom seen warm little smile.

“Yes, Lincoln. I’m more than okay,” she answers.

Lynn raises a brow. “Are you sure? We heard you crying.”

“Yeah, and you were up here all day yesterday,” Lincoln adds.

Lucy sighs with relief. The smile on her face radiates happy small goth energy, and she refuses to let it subside for the usual hopelessness and glumness she’s known to express.

“Yes, I did have a bad day yesterday,” she begins. She looks down to the poem, and smiles even wider before looking back up to her siblings. “But then I got this letter.”

She holds it up for the two of them to see, and they exchange their own little smiles before walking over to join her on the bed. She makes room for them, scooting herself in the middle for them both to sit and enjoy her company.

“I found it in my locker. It’s a poem from a secret admirer,” she explains before hugging it to her chest. “Sigh… someone noticed me…”

Lynn and Lincoln once again share a warm exchange of understanding, then look to the happy girl with the same emotionally charged compassion.

“That’s great, Lucy!” Lincoln tells her. “I’m really happy someone did this for you.”

“Me too, Luce,” Lynn agrees, slyly looking to her brother again. “Whoever wrote this, they must really care about you.”

Lincoln returns the look with one of his own. “Yeah. They must be really great.”

They lose one another in the mutual gaze for a moment before the sound of Lucy contently sighing again brings them back to form.

“Sigh… I just, I can’t believe someone could write something so beautiful for _me,”_ she begins. “Listen to this…”

She then begins to read a stanza from the poem.

_This February, I’ll give it my all_

_To say what I’m feeling, to mark on the wall_

_I know that there’s darkness, and jokes to conceal,_

_But rest assured little Loud, this reeling is real._

_You are the best thing to happen this year,_

_You give me the courage to face my fear,_

_When next Valentine’s Day comes to pass,_

_I hope I can show that these feelings will last._

Lincoln’s heart warms up with pride hearing her say that she loved a part he wrote for her, but not as much as Lynn’s. She almost wants to squeal at just how wholesome this moment is.

Instead, she keeps her cool, choosing to respond to what Lucy said before.

“I can believe it, kiddo. You really deserve the best.”

“Aww, thanks Lynn,” Lucy replies with pinkening cheeks.

Yeah, it’s really great for Lincoln. He can rest easy tonight knowing that that part really stood out for her. But part of him still isn’t satisfied. He needs to know one other thing before he can move forward from all of this.

“Hey, what about this part,” Lincoln says as he points his finger to a certain stanza written on the stationery.

Lynn’s eyes widen a little as she realizes just which part he’s signaled, and Lucy doesn’t hesitate to share it with the other two.

“Oh, yes. I think this might be my favorite part, actually,” she confesses before reading it aloud.

And of course, Lynn melts hearing that something _she_ wrote was her favorite part.

_I’m not always there, I can’t always be seen,_

_But I hope when you hear me, you can see what I mean._

_The ball’s in your court, here in our ballroom_

_You can be my dark bride, I can be your gloom groom_

_For better or worse, I want you to know this_

_Despite every sorry too, you’ve given me bliss._

_Words aren’t my strong suit, despite what I say,_

_I’m just trying to tell you: Happy Valentine’s Day._

Lucy finishes reciting the stanza, and has to stop to keep herself from crying more tears of joy. Once she’s certain she can hold them back, she speaks up again.

“Thank you guys so much for letting me share this with you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

Both the adolescents softly smile before Lincoln addresses her statement. “Lucy, we’re so happy for you. I can’t tell you how much it means to us to see you smile like this,” he responds.

Lynn doesn’t say anything. She can’t. If she tries, she might tear up herself…

Lucy though… she can’t take it anymore. All of these warm, fuzzy feelings are cascading inside of her, and she has to let them overflow.

She puts the poem to the side, and wraps both of them into a great big hug as some tears escape her again. “Than you Lincoln. Thank you Lynn. I- I love you guys so much.”

It catches them a bit by surprise, but once they realize they’re all safe to just become wrapped up in this embrace without any fear or cares in the world, they too let go and wrap their arms around the little girl, and each other.

“I love you guys too,” Lynn and Lincoln both say.

It’s as if all time has stopped for a little while. Nothing else matters for Lincoln, Lynn, or Lucy except for the two people they know and trust to love unconditionally on any day of the year, holiday or otherwise.

Some more tears are shed, and a few sniffles. But it all feels so wonderful. It’s the first time in a very long time any of them has felt so happy… on Valentine’s Day, no less.

All good things must end though, and eventually, Lynn disengages from the hug to wipe her eye. “I uh… dang. Allergies,” she blames the sudden discomfort on.

The other two just smile at that before meeting one another’s eyes and breaking away from each other as well. Lincoln places a hand on Lucy’s shoulder though, trying to convey just a little bit more how much he loves her before leaving her be.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Lucy,” he says to her.

She smiles in a way he’s never seen from her before. Warm, loving, unashamed. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Lincoln. Lynn,” she tells them both.

Lynn smiles at them too, but only before rolling her eyes and being the first to stand up and stretch from the bed. “Alright, alright. Enough mushy stuff. Enjoy your poem, Lucy. I think I’m gonna go shoot some hoops or something to work out all this energy,” she tells them.

Lincoln removes his hand from Lucy’s shoulder and uses it to cup her chin with just his index finger before shifting his smiling glance at his other sister. “You headed out back?” he asks.

She just looks to him, keeping it cool, keeping it natural. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

He shrugs. “I might work on my comic. Care if I sit out there with ya?”

Lynn squints her eyes and thoughtfully taps her finger to her chin before meeting him with another grin. “Alright, but I get to have some creative input. You have to credit me as the co-author and everything,” she jokes.

He and Lucy both chuckle at that, and he looks to the little girl one last time to be sure she’ll be happy before leaving her. Unsurprisingly, her smile hasn’t faded.

With that in mind, he stands up too. “Alright, Strong Suit. Lead the way,” he tells her before following her as she steps out of the room.

Lucy just watches with joy as the girl playfully shoves him, and she hears their shared laughter as they disappear from sight.

Now alone, she sighs once more as she looks down to her poem, the gift someone who loves her put so much time and effort into making just for her…

The gift written on special stationery that she’s only ever seen from Great Grandma Harriet's box of mementos in the attic.

She puts it to the side, and picks up her Edwin bust from his stand.

“It was very kind of them to make such a lovely present for me,” she tells her soul mate. “Maybe I didn’t get a card or a black dahlia from a boy at school. But honestly? This is the best Valentine’s Day present I could ever ask for.”

She puts him back on his stand, and makes her way over to her window so she can have a look out at the cozy winter day outside her window.

Just as she expected, Lincoln and Lynn have made their way out back. And in a pleasant turn of events, she sees the white haired boy joining his sister in her game of basketball. Wide smiles are attached to their lovely faces, laughter permeates the air as they get lost in their shared moment of bliss, and Lucy’s heart swells with joy knowing that they aren’t alone on this Valentine’s Day.

Of everything she’s seen today, the letter included, that’s what brings her the most happiness.

“And it’s all because of them.”

THE END

 


End file.
